


A Mess of Size and Scale

by emotionalmorphine



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Destroy Ending, Fluff, M/M, ME3, Minor Character Death, Rare Pairings, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-27
Updated: 2012-10-27
Packaged: 2017-11-17 03:29:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/547147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emotionalmorphine/pseuds/emotionalmorphine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>James was big. Not just big muscles, but big head, big heart, big ego. But as big as he is, he can't grasp the enormity of the war, of death, or love and can't get his head around the small Flight Lieutenant who seems to understand it all.</p>
<p>Written for the Mass Effect Big Bang 2012.<br/>With illustrations by Pluto.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Mess of Size and Scale

**Author's Note:**

>   
> 
> 
> With Illustrations by [Pluto.](http://plutokitty.deviantart.com/)
> 
> Written for the Mass Effect Big Bang 2012.

**i.**

James was introduced to Commander Shepard with blood trickling down his face and dirt on his shirt. 

_ The _ Commander Shepard.

The same Commander Shepard that survived Akuze. The same Commander Shepard that saved the Citadel, took down a rogue Spectre, had reportedly defeated the Collectors and now…

He stared at the cuffs around her wrists, the chain that ran between them. She sat still, staring at the opposite wall, her armour clean and red hair pushed behind one ear. Anderson left him there; left him to guard (Guard? A stupid, crazy thought. Shepard didn’t need a bodyguard) possibly the most powerful woman in the galaxy. The woman, the shapeless face, on which he had placed so much blame. Blame and adoration. He had looked to her like a waypoint for his life, his career, and seeing her in chains left him with nothing but big, confusing thoughts that he didn’t know how to sort.

It didn’t make those first days easy, that was for sure. Not that she wanted to talk, especially to him. She looked at him that first time and he felt like he was being pulled apart, like she could see exactly who he was under the fatigues and muscle, and when she smiled at him it wasn’t kind. She spent most of her time looking at pictures on her Omni-tool and listening to the news – the only extranet access she was allowed. He felt less like her bodyguard and more like her jailor. If Shepard needed to use the head, he had to escort her there and bring her back. She wasn’t allowed to wander the ship and had all her meals brought to her on stupid plastic trays with stupid plastic knives and forks that were impossible to turn into weapons. Not that he doubted for a minute that, if the Commander wanted to, she could overpower him and break free. Hell, she could probably rip his head from his thick shoulders.

Luckily, she didn’t seem to want to do that.

Shepard was less of a war criminal and more of a political prisoner. The batarians might be calling for blood but the Alliance wasn’t about to string up their best soldier on some ‘unfounded’ allegations. Officially, the Council hadn’t even taken a position on their Spectre yet. No doubt it would be something drawn out in lengthy negotiations, court appearances and reports.

James? He didn’t have a position. It was hard to believe that anyone would crash an asteroid into a Mass Relay and destroy an entire system. He was no friend to batarians but there was a line, right? There was always a line. Something you didn’t cross, things you just didn’t do, no matter what. At least that’s what he used to think. Before Fehl.

He rolled over in his bunk and tried to work a crick from his neck. Being a guard sure meant you didn’t get to be comfortable either. The two guards standing for the night snapped to attention when he sat up but he waved them away with an annoyed huff. The middle of the night didn’t deserve salutes. It did call for a drink to wet his mouth and maybe a snack and definitely a trip to the head. 

The crew deck was quiet except for the hum of the ship, cold even in his fatigues…and lonely. That was the other thing about being hired security – you didn’t really get much time for yourself. The Commander hadn’t said a word to him (not even _thanks_ or _excuse me_ \- basic common courtesies) and the night relief always looked at him mouths agape and shit-scared of the woman they were guarding. So yeah, maybe it was starting to get a little old spending night and day listening to nothing except ANN reports and playing Sky-Five on his Omni-tool. A guy could only do that for so long before he kind of started to crave some actual human interaction.

“Aren’t you supposed to be, y’know, guarding the Commander?”

He jumped. The coffee spilled onto his hand and he hissed and swore, juggling the mug to his other hand and shaking the hot liquid off his skin. The Flight Lieutenant just stared at him, his arms crossed across his chest.

James opened his mouth to reply but the Lieutenant motioned him aside and he found himself moving, his feet just going without waiting for his brain to ask ‘why?’. Because he knew why. It was fair to say that in the beginning the Flight Lieutenant was there and James _wasn’t_ there. James was the newbie, the tag-along, the hired muscle.  Definitely the hired muscle. This was the Normandy’s pilot, the guy that _had_ been there from the start, had been there the whole time. He’d been with this ship before the Commander herself. 

He deserved a little respect.

James found himself watching the Flight Lieutenant. Watched him limp, the careful way he reached for a mug. Stared at his hands as he made himself coffee.

He was so…

So…small. Not short, just…small. No defined muscles under fatigues, no intimidating, rigid posture. James was used to Marines, or at least other soldiers who weren’t as big as he was but could definitely hold their own. Muscles and abs and workouts in their downtime to keep up the pace. He couldn’t get over how soft the Lieutenant’s arms looked, or how sore his swollen fingers looked, all puffed and pink around the knuckles.

“You know, we don’t need you here,” the pilot said, rounding on him while the coffee brewed. “Shepard doesn’t need a guard and she doesn’t deserve to be in the brig. Anderson picked you up because you’re big, follow orders and are probably too stupid to ask questions. Shepard is a hero, not a criminal, and anyone who agrees to stand by and keep her in chains is a damn traitor.”

Shit, James’d been staring. That was no good. Had he noticed? Shit, now the Flight Lieutenant was staring. He felt stupid. Big and gormless in the tiny galley holding his cup of coffee, his hand still stinging where the hot liquid had spilled on his skin. Out of place in a place he didn't belong and had no right to call home. 

The Flight Lieutenant huffed out a laugh and poured his coffee. “Just stay the hell out of my way,” he said and left. Just like that. No other words, no fight. Gone.

He should have said something. Should’ve argued back or something. Yeah…something. He didn’t know what. He didn’t know if he had it in him. What could he say to that sort of an accusation? Hell, the guy wasn’t even wrong. He had no purpose here other than acting as a big, dumb body. Shepard didn't need a bodyguard. Shepard didn't need to be in chains. It was an act; a peacekeeping act between humanity, the batarians and the council. Politics wrapped around the Commander's wrists.

James raised his hand to his lips, mostly to clean off the last of the cooled coffee, but also to try ebb the pain. He couldn’t help but look over his shoulder and watch the Flight Lieutenant leave. 

He had a restless night ahead squashed onto that small bunk in a place he didn't belong.

 

**ii.**

Months went by. Months where the seasons changed, the sky darkened, and the first snowflakes fell on his shoulders (though mostly rain – it was always raining) as he escorted the Commander to and from Alliance Headquarters every day. He was forced into Dress Blues more often than he liked, standing at parade rest for hours on end through trials and conferences with the Council and batarian ambassadors. But they were months where he didn't have time to think about what he was doing here, whether the Commander was right or whether she was wrong, or the accusation from the small Flight Lieutenant. That wasn't such a bad thing.

The Commander wasn't allowed back on the Normandy. Not yet. Maybe not ever. Working a desk job with Vega trailing behind her like a lost puppy. He had nothing to do, nowhere to be; his entire job was to escort her to her apartment at the end of the day, hand over to the two guards that watched her door, wake up early the next morning and get back to pick her up. It was boring, lonely work with long hours and little reward.

"Why don't you take a seat, Lieutenant?"

Those were the first words she'd spoken to him in six months. He looked over at the Commander from where he stood at the door. She was so calm - steel resolve and steady hand. 

"I'm sorry, Commander?"

“Just Shepard,” she said. “It’s not Commander anymore.”

Bullshit. It would always be Commander. She would _always_ be Commander Shepard.

“Can’t I do something for you…, Shepard?” He had to force her name out. It sounded strange and damn disrespectful.

“Don’t need anything, Lieutenant,” she said with a huff of breath that whistled past her lips. “You just make me nervous standing there. One of us may as well be comfortable.”

So he sat. Awkwardly, uneasily, but sitting, so at least one of them was even if neither of them was comfortable. He felt too big for the small chair, his shoulders pressed up against the wall. Shepard went about her paperwork, pacing, and James sat. He didn't like it. Now that the weight was off his feet it resettled on his mind. 

He could quit. He could go back to Anderson and this time he'd just turn in his tags. They weren't fooling him. This was his punishment. Too decorated to be turned loose, too fucked up to be given any real responsibility. He’d never believed them when they said he had done the right thing on Fehl, grunted his way through the commendations and tried to forget that he had been responsible for those lives. 

He looked good on paper - _did what needed to be done. Acted accordingly. Gathered vital information. _You could make anything look good on paper.

Dammit , Shepard. If she'd just told the Alliance what she was doing. Defecting to Cerberus, _saving the day_ , while the rest of the galaxy was in the dark. If she'd just told the Alliance...his team would be alive.

And he might not be such a fuck-up.

He looked up. The sunlight striped across Shepard's red hair and over the desk. She looked harmless. Pale skin, slender hands, freckles across her nose; attractive, but not beautiful. No time or patience for makeup. Appearance...the universe's biggest fuckin' joke. The prize didn't always go to the biggest, the strongest or fastest. It took brains and skill and willpower. That wasn't measured in size.

Strength, power and confidence weren’t measured in muscles. 

He watched her work, the haze of the setting sun burning bright, a halo around her hair. He didn't open his Omni-tool, couldn't bring himself to, feeling more self-conscious sitting than he ever had standing. Standing, it felt like you were ready for anything.

"Got a message from Joker today. He asked about you," Shepard said. She didn't look up.

And he said nothing.

"He said that if anything happened to me he was going to wring the life out of your big, stupid neck. Seems harsh to me."

Something flickered in him, like a light, a flame; just small, just a spark. Something. But it was there. He frowned. It was like anger, that quick flash of red and rage and he thought back, remembering those small hands and the slow, carefully considered way the Flight Lieutenant moved. He remembered the way he spoke, the vitriolic contempt.

_ Traitor. _ _ _

He remembered that. The word that sat inside of him. A flare of pain, of anger, of _something nameless._ _ _

A small, nameless thing that started to grow from just the mention of that name: Joker. And just thinking about that name made it double; consume him from within as he imagined small hands and swollen fingers closing around his neck and the more he imagined it the bigger it grew until it was all he could think of. Watching Shepard, _guarding_ Shepard from the too small chair, back pressed against the wall every single day and waiting to hear that name again.

But it never came.

The Reapers did.

"Move, Lieutenant!"

And he obeyed. Because that was what he did. He turned and followed the Major and abandoned the Commander because he had been _ordered_ and he followed orders. He could imagine those hands on his neck. You lost her. You were supposed to guard her. The Reapers came and _you lost her._ And he paused as that _something_ flared again in his chest. Paused and looked back until the Major thumped him in the arm.

"There's nothing else we can do."

No. There was never anything they could do. Helpless, despite training, despite weapons and muscles. They were just small, insignificant specks. And that small flare in his chest burned.

 

**iii.**

“Mr Vega doesn’t mean to wreck things,” Cortez said. “Sometimes he just can’t help it.”

“Hey… I stopped your Cerberus sex-doll.”

Joker rolled his eyes and shook his head.

“It’s just a good thing we have a backup,” Cortez continued.

James frowned and looked back at his console. So his solution to their problem had been a little reckless but that was how he did things. And it had worked. 

The Commander hadn’t complained…much. James nursed his swollen jaw with his hand. He could feel the heat there under his skin and knew he must be looking real pretty by now. Damn, the Commander was a tough lady. But he was lucky she didn’t string him up formal and official like. He’d gotten off easy with a split lip and bruised jaw.

The Commander hadn’t wanted a fight, she had wanted to talk. And still he hadn’t landed a single punch.

He looked up again and caught Moreau staring at him. Well, staring was probably too little a word. Glaring fuckin’ daggers, there was a word. “Hey, I got you results,” he said. But try as he might, James couldn’t glare back.

Moreau pulled his hat off his head. “Your ‘results’ got the damn shuttle busted to hell! We don’t have the resources to just get a new one, y’know. If you haven’t noticed, we’re at war. With Reapers? You saw them, right? Big things with tentacles and lasers?”

James clamped his mouth shut but couldn’t help the twitch of his bruised cheek as he rubbed the back of his neck with one big hand. 

_ Traitor. _ __ You think I'm a traitor.

It was a small thing, but a damn small thing that kept getting in his brain and sitting there. Growing. A weed, a _disease._

_ Worse _ than a traitor.

The feeling sat there. 

_ Stupid. _ _ Worthless. That _ look; the look Moreau always seemed to get when he looked his way.

His anger, his ego and his pride fought with self-loathing and he wanted to get into that fight, start what he knew was brewing. He was curious to see how the Flight Lieutenant would take it and he knew that, if they really got into it, neither of them would back down.

Joker turned back to Cortez and motioned over his shoulder. “He’s not very bright, is he? I mean, shit, I’ve met some blockheads before…”

He listened to their banter and felt really fuckin’ useless around two intelligent and clever men. Because he wasn’t clever. He was just a guy, all muscle and hot-headed enthusiasm. But he made the best of what he had. He had mass, force, not wits and smarts. And that was what grated on his nerves, scraping back and forth every time he was in the company of smart, intelligent men - in the company of the small, smart, witty and intelligent pilot. The man who had called him a traitor, who had just about thrown him off the ship, who glared at him and spoke like he wasn’t even there to hear him. The man he felt so utterly _stupid_ around. 

He seemed to spend any chance of a reply rolling his slow tongue back into his mouth. He’d been chewed out as a cadet, seen what remained of a Major’s lunch in his teeth as he listened to him scream; he’d even pretended a vidcom link had gone bad to avoid a dressing down by the brass. But he had usually tried to hold his tongue. He’d always had something to say he just…didn’t. For his career, for his sanity, whatever.

He’d _always_ had something to say.  Except now. When he didn’t.

He heard Moreau laugh and saw Steve smile and that thing inside him twanged again. Jealousy added to the broiling pit of anxiety, doubt, anger and pride. It was all pretty messed up. But he was pretty messed up.

But they were all pretty messed up. Every one of them. Steve with those fuckin' sad eyes, the Commander in charge of the whole galaxy, and Joker hiding pain behind wit and snark. Every person that he'd come across on this damn ship was just as messed up as he was.

Maybe that was what made him move, swallowing his tongue back into his mouth. He needed to sort this shit out. If they were going to work together he didn’t want to think Joker was going to dump him on the nearest planet and never come back. He crossed the space between his workbench and the Kodiak and Joker rounded on him, maybe expecting a confrontation, maybe wanting it to finally get the tension out of the air. It was in that movement – turning, taking the defensive, expecting James to slug him perhaps – that his ankle buckled and he winced and James grabbed him. Not thinking - James didn't think, he just acted. Grabbed Joker's arm, which earned him a wince and hiss of pain, but held him upright, safe from falling back on the hard floor.

"Are you okay?" Steve asked.

Joker stared at him. His brow furrowed, a crease between his eyes, and he looked at the hand around his bicep. "That's gonna bruise. Thanks."

James let him go but knew what the snarky response was covering; because he saw it just before he left. Gratitude…and something else.

 

**iv.**

Words could be misinterpreted; things could go totally wrong because of One. Little. Word.

And making mistakes, especially with words, was James' speciality.

What did you say to someone who hated you? Esteban might accuse him of running his mouth once in a while, but usually when no one was listening, when it didn't matter. Yeah, he always had an opinion when it didn't matter.

Walk up. Walk up and then what? But damned if he was putting this off again! James set his resolve, fists by his sides and Joker was sitting at the bar, just like EDI said he was and James wished she had been able to give him information more helpful than the pilot's location.

"Uh, hey. I mean, hi. Mind if I join you?" James rubbed the back of his neck, cropped hair like bristles against his palm.

"Only if you're drinking, because I'm not going to be the only poor bastard who does."

Okay, good start. No trick to this. James grabbed himself a beer which he already knew tasted like rusted water but no one ever complained about because the alternative was nothing. And times like these generally called for alcohol, in some form, no matter how bad.

They didn't speak, all those words a heavy weight in a confined space. But it wasn't entirely uncomfortable. Not like the aftermath of an argument, more like...stalemate.

One of them had to go first. And James knew it had to be him.

"Hey..." His tongue felt too big again and tasted like cheap beer. "I just... I feel like we gotta clear the air, y'know?"

Joker made a sound, not a word, which huffed out from his lips and around the mouth of his beer.

"Yeah. Feel like we've put it off long enough. We gotta work together here. Lola won't have it any other way."

"I don't need to _work_ with anyone." Joker looked up, his bottle landing too hard on the counter.  "Least of all you. I'm not going to dump you out the airlock and that's all this needs to be."

"Hey now, that's no fair. I know you don't like me, but--"

"You're right. I don't like you. I don't like a lot of people though, so don't feel like I'm treating you any different to anyone else. But we don't need to work together. The most I need to see of you is your big, stupid face on my vid screen because the Commander has some deep seated need to take a giant puppy on ground with her."

James opened his mouth but bit back the words, the snap and the disbelief and did Moreau just call him a _puppy?_

"You and your damn doofy face," Joker said. "Bet you don't even know you do it. Pulling that stupid look where it's like you're trying to think. Real cute. But dumb."

"Hey! Did you just call me cute?"

"But dumb. Don't forget the dumb."

James swallowed the lump in his throat. Yeah, okay, Moreau disliked him. But maybe not hate. Maybe not. "I just think we gotta get this out. So, okay, I'm dumb. Nothing new there."

"You would be out of your depth in a kiddie pool. I don't deal with stupid people, or intelligent animals." Joker upended his beer bottle, catching the last drops on his tongue before setting it back down, rather than slamming it down this time. "So if you'll _excuse me."_

James moved. Action, no words. He didn't have the words, so his hand shot out and grabbed Joker's arm, just under the line of his sleeve against his skin. And Joker glared, all of that dislike and frustration there and James wished he didn't cower, but he did. Just a bit.

"Get your hand off me, Lieutenant."

"No." He swallowed again, forcing down that growing lump that crawled its way from his stomach where it had festered for weeks - for months.

"What the hell do you want from me? Do you have some insatiable desire to be liked? Can't get over the fact that someone hasn't thrown themselves onto all that ridiculous muscle." Joker's voice rose, laced with sarcasm, frustration and anger and that _something_ that James had never been able to identify but now made him mad.

"I don't _want_ anything." He let go of Joker's arm but didn't let him pass. " Dunno... Maybe I do. I don't want you to look at me like that no more."

"Like what?"

"You know the look." He leant closer, down. "The one that...says that. _Traitor_."

And there was a waver. Something small but Joker leant back and looked away. He knew the one. 

"I just figure... If the Commander has forgiven me, then you should give me a fuckin' chance. She doesn’t blame me for keeping her locked up. It wasn't my choice, yeah?"

The silence was huge. Insurmountable.

Deafening.

Joker's resolve wobbled, his legs with it, and James caught his arm again.

"It was no one's choice," Joker said. He pulled his arm away and rubbed it right where James had touched his skin. "None of us made that choice."

"Then why do you blame me for it?"

"Because I have to." He stepped back and James followed him but stopped at the edge of the counter. Joker wasn't leaving, just getting two fresh bottles from behind the bar. He set one on the bench and pushed it with just the tips of his fingers and slid it toward James. 

Joker tugged at the dog tags hanging against his chest. "These are collars. It's hard to see until someone pulls the chain. But we all heel." He flicked the bottle cap onto the counter and took a long pull from the bottle. James recognised the need for liquid fortification. 

"I let them put her in those cuffs and I let you keep her as a prisoner on _her_ ship. Just stood by and let it happen."

Maybe it was his ego. Maybe he was a dog. But James couldn't let it go, not now, not with such a small space between where they were and what was looming. "You can't blame me for it. That was all Shepard's choice, no?"

"Friends don't let friends make stupid life decisions."

"Friends don't want you to throw your career away. Hey, it's Lola, yeah? She had a plan."

Joker looked at him and James knew just as well as anyone that there had been no plan. He'd been there those months, watching the Commander file paperwork. Whatever was going on with the galaxy, Shepard had resigned to her fate.

He opened his beer though he didn't want the booze. The last one was still sitting uncomfortably in his stomach. 

"I didn't want to do it either, y'know. Just so we're clear." He took another drink despite his distaste. "I had a choice...but maybe better me than someone else, yeah? Shepard's like...my goddamn idol or something. I watched her, but that's it. If she ever wanted to up and run, I would've been there and made it happen. Damn what anyone else had to say."

"Yeah... Yeah, me too. I... Vega, I don't think you're a traitor. What I said was hot-headed, didn't think about it much, so maybe you should just forget it and pretend I wasn't such an ass to you."

"Yeah, forgotten already." They felt the same thing, doubted their actions and choices when they had been given none. That's why it stung so much. That's why the feeling was still there; a small flicker of worry and self-hatred that couldn't be so easily removed.

It was too much to say in one sitting. There were words that couldn't force their way out and feelings that didn't have words yet. So that had to be it. For now.

Joked grabbed his beer and James felt the doubt curl in his chest again, thinking he might leave. The pilot motioned to him and went to make himself comfortable, in for the long haul. James took it as a blessing - he might never get this chance again. And he was nothing if not an opportunist.

He flopped back on the couch, beer cradled in his large hands and against his thigh and Joker was staring out at the stars.

"So how did you find Garrus?" Joker asked. It was an awkward sort of question that only a person searching for small talk would indulge. James didn't mind so much.

"Lola likes him plenty. Thought maybe they, y'know..., did the bump 'n grind."

"Oh, they did."

"No shit... I thought the Commander was all eyes for pretty blue babes."

"She is." Joker leant back and then grinned, smug. "Thought you might have a chance?"

"What? No! I mean, she's...well, she's _Shepard."_ He couldn't keep the reverence out of the name. "Too much woman for the likes of me."

Joked laughed and James felt the tension unwind from his shoulders.

"I think you gotta tell me everything. I don't wanna go in and say something dumb."

Joker's lips twitched, just at the corner, a self-satisfied little smirk that James felt inclined to copy. "Well, I don't think it's possible to keep you from saying something dumb...but maybe I can get you up to speed on the ship gossip. There's no one else to gossip with, after all, and the water cooler can only take so much."

And when James looked at him he could see something reflected there. Yeah, it had been there before. Maybe that was what the _something_ had been: understanding. He just never understood that.

__

**v.**

If immaturity was what they had in common, they did it well. First little things; gossiping and talking, and playing extranet games at all hours of the night. Because it was a sort of understanding. They hid the pain and doubt and James liked to see people smile. If they were laughing, even at his expense, at least they were smiling.

Pranks? They'd done it all by now. Swapped out the coffee for decaf, made the washer dispense nothing but spoons including when you asked for a mug, bought Shepard a plastic fish for her tank (because she kept killing her fish but refused to be outdone by a VI), and switched around all the vids so that the only thing available was the animated Blasto series (that was now becoming a firm favorite with the crew). Joker had bought Kaidan a subscription to a magazine called _Mane_ which looked half hair-care and half gay erotica (along with a note that it would keep him occupied while he recovered because bed hair was rarely sexy), and, not to be shown up, James had spent hours sneaking around  Traynor in an effort to steal her toothbrush and leave it in increasingly suspect places and had spent three days waiting for Javik to leave his room so that he could ‘sully’ the atmosphere (the specifics of which Joker never dared ask). 

They played some great pranks on each other, too – way crueler than what they dared for the rest of the crew. Joker had convinced Steve to, at random, blurt out some incredibly tasteless pick-ups lines, just so he could see Vega react to each one, so in return Vega managed to get Diana in on the deal with her camera, forcing Joker to trim his beard and sit up straight and be _productive_ while on shift for a solid day and a half, thinking that he was going to be on the news. Then it was _on._ Joker got his hands on some salarian-grown chilies, which had been specially cultivated to be ‘so hot a Krogan can’t handle them’ and swapped out the jar of jalapeños. He’d sat back and watched from the Med Bay for that one.

James had to get the upper hand. It was a matter of honour. 

“Yeah, _thanks_ for that!” Joker yelled as he stepped out of the lift.

James turned and folded his arms across his chest. It had taken him _days_ to plan this one. He rested his weight back, leaning against his console and smirked. Oh yeah. He’d won.

“That’s just cruel, y’know? It was all fun and games and then you go do something like that and I swear to God, I’m going to leave you behind on a planet some time!”

“I didn’t do nothin’,” James said. “What’re you blaming me for here?”

“Ohh, don’t you… You…” Joker waggled his finger. “How’d you even find out about that?”

James grinned. “Me and my girl EDI are tight.”

_ “Would you like to hear another verse, Jeff?” _ EDI asked over the loudspeaker.

“Bet you didn’t even let her get to the bit ‘bout going tandem.”

“I’m going to kill you. When you’re sleeping. Won’t even hear me coming and then it will be too late.”

“Ya sure? Sure you won’t be hiding under your bed?”

If EDI could laugh, James was sure she would be now. Hell, he’d just asked the AI if she had any ideas on how to catch Joker out after the peppers gag. He’d have to ask her for more tips in the future.

“No I won’t be hiding under my bed!”

James laughed. He couldn’t help it, his hand slapping on his thigh as he tipped his head back. Tears touched the corner of his eyes and he wiped them away with his fist.

_ “I am sorry, Jeff. Lieutenant Vega asked for my assistance.” _ _ _

“You loved it, babe,” James said. He pushed away from his console and came to Joker’s side, slipping a big arm around his shoulders. "You really okay? You're kinda\--" Shook up? "Y’know. Had to get back at you for the last one. Was only fair.”

Joker smirked. "Guess I had it coming. We make pretty good partners in crime."

James wasn't sure but he could swear that he saw a tremble in Joker's hand. Small, but definitely there, except he knew Joker would forever deny it. "You just tell me when you need the muscle and I got your back. You've gotta be the brains behind this."

"I am pretty much one step away from being the wheelchair guy. Wonder if I'd get cool telekinetic powers. Y'know, like biotics, but without all the scary brain surgery."

"You're more the mad genius sort, no? Can't see you as the superhero type."

"Damn. Intrepid space captain, then? Searching out new life and going where no man has gone before."

"Is that some sci-fi thing? 'Cause you know I'm not up with that."

"Hm. Need to get you watching some of the classics."

"Okay." He agreed too quickly, barely giving Joker the chance to get the words out.

Joker looked at him and James didn't miss the furrow of his brow and the small frown that curled his lips. It was so silent that he could hear the air through the pipes and vents.

"You wanna watch vids with me?"

"Well...yeah. Why not, y'know? It sounds good. I'll bring the _cerveza_ , you get some popcorn. Be almost like a real movie. Wanted to go see the new Blasto on the Citadel but that's a bit hard now, yeah?"

"You never know, Shepard might get a hankering for some Blasto action and order us all there during the next liberty.”

"Yeah..." James felt too big next to Joker. Like he took up too much room in a small space, getting too close, intruding. He pulled away. "Yeah. We could've gone to see it. Y'know, on the Citadel. Would've been good." What was he asking? What was he even doing?

Joker cleared his throat and rubbed at his hair. "I guess. So, if you're not doing anything now...we could, y'know, do that. Watch some vids. I've got a heap and we could watch in the cockpit. It's not the most comfortable place to share but at least no one interrupts and wants to change the vid to _Fleet and Flotilla_ or some crap."

"Yeah...that'd be good."

James grabbed beer and Joker procured popcorn from the stash James was sure he must be keeping for himself because this was an Alliance ship and they never had anything good. He wouldn’t be surprised if Joker had a whole cache of good stuff hidden up here. James took EDI's usual chair and Joker sat in his chair and they watched vids. It was weird, sort of uncomfortable, and silent except when Joker spoke. James would look over and stare, too tongue-tied to say anything other than 'uh-huh'. But he tried. Maybe, just...maybe...it wasn't the vid that was worth watching.

He looked at Joker again. He was nursing his beer, a handful of popcorn in his other hand, eyes glued to the screen, his skin tinted with the orange glow from the command consoles of the bridge. He was still aware of everything that was going on with _his_ ship, James knew, as he touched his fingers to buttons, scrolled through information almost unconsciously as he watched his  favourite episode of some horrible campy sci-fi series with women painted green or gold that James just couldn't get into. But Joker _was_ into it and that he could get into. Watching the way his face lit up with a grin, the way he grimaced and scoffed at any bad science. Maybe it made James totally creepy, sitting here and watching the Flight Lieutenant more than the actual  vid, but _Joker_ was interesting.

And there was that _feeling_ again. A twinge of interest, something he hadn't felt in a damn long time. Oh yeah, he'd fucked around, met women at bars and went back to their place but there was never any connection, never any interest other than satisfaction of base urges and not wanting to spend another night with his hand and a bottle of lube. 

But the twinge was still there, sitting low in his stomach - sitting there and making him look again, follow the lines of Joker's face and wonder what his skin felt like, how it would feel under his big hands, just how far he could even go without hurting him.

“Where’s EDI tonight, anyway? She didn’t want to watch Star Trek?”

“Said she couldn’t handle another episode,” Joker said without looking over. “That she might string me up and leave me to die if I forced her to watch one more hot alien girl make out with Kirk.”

“She didn’t say that.”

“Nah, she didn’t, but it was written all over her face.” This time he did look over and grinned. “Yeah, the blank face. You heard me. It’s subtle. You have to know how to read her.”

“Uh huh. So where’d she really go?”

Joker shrugged. “Something about Traynor. I dunno, I didn’t pry. Sam came and got her and called it a date and I was out – you ask questions, you get into trouble. Trust me on this.”

Vega shifted in the chair. He did want to ask, because right now his mind was filling in the blanks and the blanks were pretty hot.

“Seems like everyone is taking what they can find…” Joker said. He ran his fingers along the arm of his chair. “Shepard and Liara, though they’ve always been a thing, y’know except for the whole Cerberus stint and little hook-up with Garrus we don’t talk about. Heard that a couple of kids in CIC had a bit of a drunken _thing_ which seems to have prompted a relationship. Then there’s Ken and Gabby hovering around each other. Everyone wishes they’d just get on with it.”

“So…Sam ‘n EDI?”

Joker shrugged again. “Maybe, I dunno. Like I said, I didn’t ask. Especially ‘cause it’s EDI and all. She’s probably just curious.”

Just a thing. Something you didn’t ask about - a curiosity thing. James shifted again. He got that. The guy made him feel that; curious, weird, sometimes angry or stupid or small and useless. Had since the very first time he'd met him. It was what had kept the Flight Lieutenant in his mind, the thing that had forced him to speak to him, the thing that had urged James to seek his company and attempt to build some sort of friendship. The thing that had made him jump at the opportunity to do this tonight, just the two of them. And now it was the thing that insisted he _smelled good_ , like leather and soap, and the thing that wanted to lick his skin. Because that wasn't creepy or nothin'.

“How d’you think Lola’s doin’?” he asked, just trying to break the silence again. That and he needed to stop thinking like a weirdo. They were just hanging out, just having a good time. Nothing else _._ _It couldn't be anything else._ That's just how things were.

Joker sighed. “Question for the ages, that one. I dunno, don’t ask me. She doesn’t really talk to me, not like that anyway. It’s usually ‘Joker, stop teasing Javik’ or ‘Joker, did you reprogram the coffee maker?’ You know, real _important_ stuff.”

James laughed. “But you did reprogram the coffee machine. Got caught on that one myself. _Mierda_ _!_ That was some bad coffee.”

“I was actually trying to catch the Commander, but you happened along first.”

“And you didn’t warn me?”

“Yeah right, warn you. Ha! I would’ve tempted you. Oh! This bit's good." Joker waved at the screen and James smiled.

 

**vi.**

James had always been big. Taller than the other kids, bigger, stronger. A wall to put between you in a fight, a big sign that said 'don't mess with us’.

Built to be a soldier and not think about it.

Not at all like Shepard with her intelligence and skill. Not at all like Esteban with his deft fingers and quick mind. Not at all like Liara, or the Major, or, or, or. 

Not like anyone.

That wasn't a bad thing, Esteban would say. You've got a big heart, Mr Vega. You make people feel safe. You give people a sense of reassurance just by being around them. 

But he would never be them.

Because he could never be anything _but_ big. Because he needed to be big. The bigger he was, the smaller his shortcomings seemed.

He would never – _could_ never – be like Joker.

Talented, witty, funny (so funny). Small and _fragile_ but so very strong in spirit.

He looked at the man across from him. He knew it was strange, he knew that people would look at him funny, think he was mad. He wasn't supposed to be drooling into his beer, caught between taking a sip and just staring, slack-jawed. If James ever told anyone the he might, possibly, be interested in someone like _Joker_ , they would laugh in his face.

"You in or what?" Joker asked.

"Uhhh\--"

Alenko chuckled to his right but managed to do a fairly good job of hiding it behind his own beer.

"Yeah, I'm in. What ya got?"

Joker smirked and James found himself smiling back despite the friendly competition and despite the way his chest clenched. He wanted to touch that smile. Joker placed his cards down on the table – a straight. 

"I knew you had to have something good," Kaidan said and threw his own cards down on the table. "You lack any type of subtlety."

Joker leaned forward and dragged the chips to his accumulating pile. "Thanks. It's just I'm too good. Told you that you didn't want to play me."

"Poker isn't really my game," Kaidan said. But he still dealt the next hand, sweeping up their discarded cards.

And across the table, James caught Joker's gaze, held it for an excruciating moment like he was trying to hold a piece of glass in his hands. 

Joker grinned at him again and the look was gone. Green eyes no longer on him and he let go of the breath he had held onto until his chest burned.

None of them talked much as the cards were dealt round after round. There wasn't much to say. They were just blowing off some steam and forgetting, _for now_ , that they were at war. The chips mostly went to the pile in front of Joker, though James could hold his own. It was the Major that suffered.

"I'm out. The Alliance doesn't pay that well," Kaidan said. He placed his cards, such as they were, on the table. "You two gentlemen can work out the winner without any more of my credits."

"I think the Flight Lieutenant has us beat," James said. The words felt wrong in his mouth. Like it was full of fur. Or maybe he'd had too much of the shitty beer.

Kaidan excused himself. He patted Joker on the shoulder as he passed and James stared at that hand and then that shoulder. He wanted to be able to be casual with people. Casually touch people, casually put his arm around someone and be comfortable. Hell, the only place he was comfortable was in a fight. 

Because that’s what he did. He fought too much, pushed too hard, always did one more rep and the only thing that never broke was his body.

Eventually it would. And then he would have nothing.

He watched Joker’s deft fingers flipping through the pile of cards, stared at the blunt fingernails and saw the defined curve to the digits. They had been broken before, much like his own, but his injuries had all mostly been out of stupidity, Joker's were born into his design. He was so fragile, so... _small_...so unlike James at all.

But it didn't matter. Joker made all his training, all the reps and strained muscles, look ridiculous and pointless because someone so breakable was so much more competent. 

Joker didn't need the approval of others or for anyone to tell him that he'd done the right thing. He knew it already. He was smart and quick and could shoot a man down with a single comment or a withering stare.

Next to him, James felt small. He didn't know what to say or what to do and he was aware of just how much space he imposed into, taking it and forcing others out of it instead of welcoming them in.

"So, what d'you do down there? Try and lift the Kodiak? Break girders off and bench-press them?" Joker asked and the smirk started in the corner of his lips, the flesh crinkling and _damn_ James just wanted to swallow it up with his mouth.

"Best I've got is some PT sessions in the Med Bay."

"You look good." He blurted it out. He didn't mean to. But his mouth ran away with him, his brain busy as he thought about how _soft_ Joker looked - not in a girl way, no, that was different, but soft to touch with pliant muscles under rough skin, no grazes from fights, no calluses, just...yeah, soft. But Joker gave him that _look_ and James slid down in his seat, trying to be anywhere else, preferably somewhere he couldn't speak and say stupid things.

"Yeah, well, I appreciate the sentiment, Vega."

"James..."

Joker looked at him again as he flicked through the deck of cards. "Yeah... James. Hey, why haven't you ever given me a nickname? You call Shepard 'Lola', which she just _loves_ , by the way."

James shrugged, rolling his shoulders. "Dunno. You just don't seem like a nickname type of guy. Y'know? You've already got one. Be weird to give you another."

"You said Shepard seemed like a 'Lola'. There's nothing you think of with me?"

There was. Lots of things, thousands of things, all confusing and amazing but not one thing that jumped to his mind like Lola, Doc, or Scars. "Like I said, you just don't suit a nickname."

"Jeff, then."

"Huh?"

"If I don't suit a nickname, you could call me Jeff. Y'know, my name?"

He knew that. Flight Lieutenant Jeff Moreau. He knew that, knew the name that sat on his tongue.

“Jeff…” He’d never actually said it before.

Joker flicked two of the cards onto the table and then swept them back up. They were doing nothing but James didn’t want to leave. What for? Where to? This was better, even as awkward and comical as it was. He hadn’t been able to get Joker out of his mind, not for months, sitting alone with Shepard, aboard the _Normandy_ , getting worse, circling in his head. He wasn’t sure where it came from; maybe it was just a thing. Maybe it had been a given. Maybe it _was_ stupid. They were friends and it had been hard enough to get to that.

They were lonely. Everyone was lonely. Everyone was looking for that person, everyone was looking for ways to wrap up their lives and finish off the things they had put off for years. 

“Why’s your nickname ‘Joker’, anyway?” he asked.

Another card was flipped onto the table. Queen of Spades. He flicked it across the table to James. “Do you know anything ‘bout cards?”

“…am I ‘sposed to?”

Joker laughed. “Not really. I just find them interesting. Had nothing else to do as a kid but play games. They called me Joker because I was dead serious in flight school. I didn’t have time to dick around like everyone else. I had to be better so no one ever brought up my _disability._ Guess who was laughing at graduation?”

“Seems pretty unfair to make fun—” James cut himself off and looked at the table. Way to stick your foot in it. Yeah, call him on being disabled.

But Joker shrugged. “I didn’t let it hold me back. I knew what I wanted and I got it. But I know when to make a big deal out of something and when to step the hell back. They wanted to call me some dumb name then go ahead. It stuck and I don’t hate it.” He took the box of cards from the table and upended it, the two jokers sliding out onto the table. He flicked one at James and it landed atop the other card. “The joker isn’t used in most games. It’s a wild card. Depends on your game, though. It can be the best or worst card to pick up.”

James picked up the card and looked at it. The pictures were fairly traditional – humans were funny about things like that. “So in this game…”

“In this ship, I’m the best card they’ve got. Don’t tell though because we wouldn’t want to give away our tactical advantage.” Joker stood and carefully stretched, wincing as something pulled in his lower back but he tried not to draw attention to the pain.

“Wait…”

Joker stopped and raised an eyebrow in question, his hip leaning against the poker table for balance.

“If you’ve thought about this so much, y’know, cards and stuff…”

“You want to know what card I think you are?” Joker grinned. “That other one I gave you – that’s Shepard.”

Queen of Spades. The sword. Shepard, their Queen, their ruler. She gave the orders, they followed, protected her like nobility because _she_ had the answers. Not them.

Joker slid another card from the stack once he found it. He picked it up and handed it to James as he walked past. “The Knight. Just like your armour.”

James took the Jack of Hearts and held it, the other two cards in front of him on the green felt tabletop.

  
  
Art by [Pluto.](http://plutokitty.deviantart.com/)

 

**vii.**

Things changed. Wars that had lasted hundreds of years ended. Two races that had spent generations apart were reunited and brought together.

Some things never changed, or shouldn't change. Shepard was a hero again. Her smile couldn't be bigger. Her smile made everyone else smile.

But there had been losses, too. Hundreds of quarians had lost their lives before the guns fell silent. A trusted friend had given his life for the continuation of his species. Shepard put Legion's name on the wall with all the others. She hadn't expected anyone else to be there, but they all came and remained respectfully silent until the Commander dismissed them.

James put his guns away, accepted Shepard's rifle and shotgun and held them back for a proper clean. They - the guns, their armour, themselves - were covered with sand, soot and the synthetic fluid of geth. Hard to believe an enemy that the galaxy had feared for longer than humans had space flight were now allies. It sure was going to scare some geeks on the Crucible project - almost as good as imagining Rachni workers scuttling around underfoot.

That was what Shepard was doing - transforming the galaxy. The Reapers might be trying to end them but Shepard was bringing everyone together, ending wars, righting wrongs, just like a goddamn superhero. Hell, krogan babies we're being named after her. Maybe some would be named 'Vega', too.

He wasn't so great at looking at the enormity of the big picture. The scale was too huge, too daunting. Whatever they'd done today was only a small piece of something much, much bigger. Yeah, they'd downed a friggin' Reaper but what was one in one hundred, or a thousand, or tens of thousands. How many of the damn things were out there, anyway?

James looked up as the elevator doors slid open. So did Steve. He did his best to hide his grin as Steve greeted the Major and their conversation took off - about Rannoch, about the war, about how brilliant a pilot Steve was (which James wasn't arguing but it was sweet to hear the Major say it). It was good to see. He'd missed that smile on Esteban's lips; the one that lit up his whole face.

"Hey, Lieutenant."

Vega looked up again, pretended that he'd been paying attention to his console. "Yeah, Major?" He saw the amused tug of Alenko's lips, caught between thoughts of calling insubordination or extending the hand of friendship.

"The Commander said you did a good job down there," Kaidan said. "Though we may need to give you some tech lessons."

Steve laughed and James rubbed at the back of his neck. "Ah, yeah well, it ain’t my thing. I told the Commander that, but her 'n Sparks were laid up."

"Sparks?" Kaidan asked and glanced at Steve.

"Tali. Apparently she is small and jumpy," Steve answered.

That's when James saw it; the little touch of Steve's hand to the Major's arm as he invited him for a drink. It was small, but he didn't miss it. Neither did the Major. He smiled, his gaze darting away, that awkwardness James had noticed before returning in fuckin' spades. Yeah, it was sweet. 'Course Esteban would be the forward one. He always had been.

The Major stopped at the elevator doors, shook his head and then turned back to James. "I almost forgot. Joker said he was looking for you. Well...in a roundabout way. You know what he’s like.”

Steve laughed. "If it's in the same way he keeps finding reasons to come down here, I think I understand. Shall we go?"

And there it was again. So small, so quick, Steve just touching his fingers to Alenko's arm and shit, if the Major didn't blush this time, right up to his hairline.

James turned back to his console. He didn't quite get it. Any of it. Sure he got that the Major was attractive in a certain dorky, regimented way, but maybe Steve liked that. He never got Steve's comments, though, so quick and always like he was laughing at a private joke behind his back. Hell, maybe he was. James wouldn't know. He punched at the keys on his terminal, just a quick note to Joker, what was he up to? James didn't even expect a reply. He was already busy thinking about a shower and joining the party in the crew quarters because they had brought down a fucking Reaper. It was worth celebrating.

So, no, he didn't expect Joker to show up in the lift, panting, rubbing his thigh.

"Shit, shit, you've gotta hide me. I don't care where. Lift the Kodiak and stick me under it!"

"Wha\--"

"No time!" Joker grabbed his arm and pulled. Joker couldn't force James to move but his feet decided for him before his brain could catch up. He caught Joker's elbow in one big hand and followed him to the back of the cargo bay, behind the crates and the Kodiak and out of view. Joker slumped against the crate, breathing hard, tossing his cap to the floor as he wiped at his forehead.

"What're we doin'?" James asked and peeked around the crate, only to be pulled back.

"Shhh! Okay, so apparently Liara is not cool with pranks. Who would've thought?"

James looked at him, tried not to focus on the way his hair was curling with moisture or the flush of his cheeks. "What happened? And why're we hiding behind a crate?"

Joker swiped at him again and hissed. "Okay so maybe I went a little far. I was trying to cheer her up, honestly. She was driving everyone crazy worrying over the Commander and kept insisting I patch her into your vid feed--"

"Mine?"

"So she could see Shepard. Anyway." He gave James a pointed look for daring to interrupt. "So maybe I didn't quite hook her up with your vid feeds. I knew it would kill her to see Shepard down there fighting a _Reaper._ On foot? Yeah, no, she didn’t need to see that. So I said we couldn't do it, she got angry and upset, so when Shepard got back and after y'know, Legion, I figured a little prank might make her smile."

_ "Jeff, Dr T’Soni is currently looking for you," _ came EDI's voice over the loudspeaker.

"Shhh, EDI! She'll know I'm here!"

_ "Dr T'soni is currently on her way to the cargo hold." _ _ _

"Ah, crap! She's going to kill me. She's going to pick me up with her biotics and break every bone in my body!"

James folded his arms. "What did you do, _pendejo_?"

Joker grinned. "Flooded her screens with really bad Shepard porn. Right from bad vids to horrible fan-art. Did you know people actually draw pictures of the Commander? There are posters and comics and everything. Some if not all of them are complete smut."

James shook his head. "This is your mess, then."

Joker grabbed James’ arm before he could leave. Just as the doors at the end of the bay swished open.

"Please!" he whispered and tightened his hand around James' big arm.

"Joker!"

Yeah, she sounded pissed.

Maybe it wasn’t best to let Liara get her hands on Joker. Apparently Liara used to be a lot sweeter than she was these days and pissing her off when she was already worried about the Commander just seemed stupid. But hey, far from him to call out stupidity.

Joker whimpered and James rested his large hand over the pilot’s mouth, pressing him up against the crate. He shook his head and listened. Waited.

“EDI! Are you wasting my time?” Liara asked.

_ “I am hoping that physical violence is not necessary in this situation, Dr T’Soni. I require Jeff in one piece.” _ _ _

James carefully removed his hand from over Joker’s mouth, convinced that he could stay quiet enough while his robotic _girlfriend_ covered for him. Eh, it was just a prank, anyway. Liara would get over it, probably rage to Lola a bit and be silenced with placating kisses. Apparently the Commander was good at that. Not that he'd know - turned out the Doc could be the jealous sort.

Liara frowned. "EDI. I understand your attachment to your pilot but I find myself needing to dismember him. Can you please tell me where he is?"

The smell of biotics – that weird smell of burning ozone, acid on his tongue – wafted past them, sucked up through the vents.

_ "Commander Shepard has requested your presence in her cabin, Dr T'Soni." _ _ _

James waited. He heard Liara speaking quietly over her comms but couldn’t make out the words. No doubt talking to Lola. It took a bit, no denying that Liara was out for Joker’s blood, but she did leave. Eventually. But he waited until he was sure she had left before he dared to speak. No way was he risking Liara coming back and realizing he’d been hiding a fugitive.

He chuckled and looked at Joker. “You really pissed her off. Nice work.”

"Yeah...didn't plan that one. I'll put it in my notes: 'Don't play pranks on asari. They aren't cool'." 

“Yeah, best you don’t try that one again,” James said. He didn’t push away from the crate, stayed just where he was with his hands either side of Joker’s head, wrist just touching his shoulder. To his credit, Joker hadn’t moved either, staring up at him with those damn green eyes and small impish grin and… Shit. James looked away, staring at the line of the crate against the floor, at their feet, at anything else as he clenched his jaw and then pushed away.

“Hey…meathead?”

“Hey, who you calling—”

It wasn’t just a kiss. Wasn’t just Joker leaning up, grabbing a fistful of his shirt and actually pulling him down. It’s wasn’t small at all. There was no understandable size to this, just another mess of daunting scale. He pulled Joker into his arms, encompassed him, felt those small hands at the back of his neck holding him closer. Joker’s nose brushed against his cheek, his beard rubbed at his jaw and scratched his skin and James grabbed him by the shoulders and pushed him back.

  
  
Art by [Pluto.](http://plutokitty.deviantart.com/)   


“What're we doin' here?” he asked. “Are we doin’ this?”  


Joker shrugged. “Until you pushed me away. What did you do that for?”

His lips were pink, cheeks flushed red and James stared at that same small curl of hair to the left of Joker’s temple that must get caught up under his cap. But he didn’t know. Were they doing this?

“C’mon, you can’t expect me to just pretend that there’s nothing here, Vega.”

“James…”

Joker raised his eyebrow. “See?” He reached forward and hooked his hand onto Vega’s belt and tugged until he stumbled closer, his feet dead weights. “So?” Joker drawled out and his lips quirked just in the corner and James had to run his thumb over it, catch it against his skin but that just made the smile bigger, wider, harder to hold onto with just a finger but maybe lips instead. James leant in and tested and perfect, just the right everything from the fit of the pilot against his body to the softscratch of the beard under his palm. It wasn't a war or a battle or even a dance, it was just his lips, Joker’s tongue and the crate he had pushed him up against.

And that was all he had ever wanted. Something that couldn’t be caught up in size, something beyond the enormity of the situation the entire galaxy had found itself in, because this, _this_ , was so much more important. It wasn’t like fighting for your life, feeling the searing heat of a slug tear through flesh and splinter apart – it was fear but for a different reason and when he shoved both of his big hands up past the fabric of Joker’s shirt he realized that he _was_ scared. His heart raced in his chest, trying to find a rhythm. 

Joker’s hands worked down to his belt and James pushed away again.

“Wait. Wait, wait, wait.”

Joker’s hands didn’t move from the clasp of his belt, undone now. He grinned and cocked his head and _laughed._

“Hey, no fair, you can’t laugh. I’m trying to be the gentleman here.”

“If I wanted a gentleman I could’ve gone after Kaidan. I’m not.” Joker gestured around them. “I’m standing in the cargo hold with you and you’ve got your hands up my shirt.”

James pulled his hands free, snapping them back to his sides.

"C'mon, James. Giving you a free pass here and you're not taking it. And don't tell me you're not interested in what I'm offering," Joker said and he cast a quick look to the evident bulging of the front of James' pants.

James could feel the heat on his ears. "Yeah, you got me there. That's not it." He rubbed the back of his neck. It just didn't feel right. Wait, no, it _felt_ right, but doing it this way wasn't. 

Joker had his arms folded, his shirt still crumpled around his waist where James had pulled it free, but the look he was giving meant that he got it, too. Just a small quirk of his lips, a bit of pink on his pale cheeks and he sighed. "You and me, then. Next time we're on the Citadel. A date. But you're paying because this might be my only opportunity to get a free meal outta someone."

"A date..."

"Yeah. With awkward conversation and heated glances across a table, etcetera, etcetera. Though you better not show up with flowers or I may have to kill you."

"You got it. No flowers. Don't have to tell me twice."

Joker leant down and grabbed his cap from the floor, but hesitated to put it back on. He stared at it, rubbing his fingers over the edge of the brim before stepping forward and closing the gap that was between them. James didn't move and that small gap that might have been huge was swallowed up when Joker leant up and kissed him. Different this time but promising the goddamn world.

Joker leaned back and pulled his hat onto his head. "I like you, okay? Just so we're clear."

"Oh yeah. We're clear," James said and touched his knuckles to Joker's chin, edging up his jaw so he would look at him. "We're clear."

 

**viii.**

They had to be mad. Maybe they were all mad. Rannoch was won but Thessia was lost. The proud, ageless asari homeworld taken so easily from their hands, Shepard recovering from a broken arm and Liara mending a broken heart. And here he was, doing something so crazy stupid, chasing something so _mad._

And Esteban was staring across the room at him with that damn little smile.

"You're allowed to have fun," Steve said, just loud enough that James could hear him.

James hung his head, brushed his hand over his hair and felt the ball of guilt bottom out.

"None of us can help what happened. It happened," Steve continued. His voice was soft, warm and James didn't mind when he came closer, resting there against a crate with his arms crossed. "A little fun will do us all good."

"You goin' out then?"

"Kaidan..." Steve's voice trailed for a moment and James could hear him smile. "He's made plans. Said it was a surprise since this might be our last chance at something like this."

"Yeah. Yeah, sounds good. Make sure he pays. He's the Spectre, y'know."

Steve gave a small laugh. "I'll let him know."

He leant against his workbench, big shoulders slumping. "It just doesn't feel right, y'know? Goin' out, having a good time. Just doesn't feel right."

"James... James, look at me."

He did. He looked up and Steve was smiling at him and he had those soft eyes that James had seen tinged with sadness for so long now and finally - _finally_ \- his smile had started to touch his eyes again. He was happy. It seemed like such a small thing, to be happy, to be able to find the sort of happiness that touched your eyes when you smiled, but it was the biggest thing in the whole galaxy.

"I want you to go and have a good time, alright?" Steve said. "We all deserve it. Shepard knows that."

"Yeah. Yeah..." He pushed away from his bench and went to leave. 

"Hey, Vega!"

He looked back and Steve grinned at him.

"You look good."

"'Course I do, Esteban. You know it." But it made him smile anyway. Trust Esteban to know when he was feeling self-conscious. Just a little, just a tiny bit, but enough, that small word of self-doubt that had coiled inside him. Telling him he wasn't good enough, telling him that he had screwed up and would screw up. But Steve was still smiling at him with those kind eyes and gave him a small wave and it was okay.

Having a bit of fun was okay. Being just a little bit self-conscious was okay. Caring for someone was okay, too.

"So...you did show up," Joker said and turned his chair to face him. Same uniform, same cap, same beard and grin. That was okay.

"Yeah. Said I would."

"Where are my flowers?"

"What? You said--!"

"It's okay," Joker said and grinned. "I'm just winding you up. Let's go. For once I'd like to not be the last one on the ship tonight."

But they definitely weren't the only ones who decided to get off the ship. Get out and let loose while they still had the chance. Engineers Daniels and Donnelly were out shopping, Ken being dragged through the Ward and giving them a pained look at they passed, and they saw Traynor out with EDI, but they didn't disturb them. They were having fun. Thousands, hundreds of thousands, _millions_ of lives had been snuffed out but here they were.  Alive. James looked down at Joker and the man smiled back at him and then whacked him in the chest and pointed to the cafe.

James didn't pull his chair out. He didn't pour him water or hand him a napkin or order for him. He didn't do any of those things and Joker would have never wanted him to, probably would have laughed at him for trying. So they both ordered different things - Joker a burger of dubious quality and Vega a steak of equally dubious quality - but they both ordered a beer.

And waited.

James rubbed the back of his neck and Joker was poking at a spot of water on the table. They were awkward around each other, not sure how to move, who was supposed to move first. With everything that had been going on - Cerberus attempting to take the Citadel, Udina trying to overthrow the council, Rannoch and downing a Reaper, and finally Thessia and losing the information to that jackass Leng \- they hadn't had much time together, hadn't really spoken about what happened. That kiss. Yeah... _that_ kiss.

"You're smirking," Joker said. "Thinking about something good?"

"You _know_ I'm thinking about something good, _pendejo_.  So, uh... How was your day?"

Well, at least the awkward conversation was happening right on schedule.

Joker laughed. "That's what you're leading with?"

"Well you could gimme a hand here."

"Oh, I'll give you a _hand._ "

They stared at each other and Joker grinned and James shook his head. "Yeah, okay. 'Spose it was a pretty dumb question, yeah?"

"It was good, though. Y'know, my day. Good. Quiet. No Reapers trying to tear a hole in our hull and yeah, pretty quiet. Man, what do people talk about on dates? I didn't really think it would be this hard...or embarrassing."

James shrugged. "You got me. Every time I go out, they do all the talking. Don't usually need to try, just nod. You never been on a date before or something?"

"Insulting me really isn't helping your chances of getting laid."

"What? No, I just--" He put his hand to his forehead. Yeah, he was screwing this up. But he wanted this. He wanted it so much. The promise of it filled him up inside and pressed out, wanting to escape.

"Calm down. You're more fun when you're not so tense."

He looked back over and Joker was leaning on the table, staring at James from under the brim of his hat. He'd kill for that sort of ease, that quiet confidence, something that didn't need to be shown through bragging and muscles and charging in before anyone else could.

"Sorry. Sorry, I'm just not good at this. Never been nervous like this before, though."

"Generally that's because you like someone. You're nervous because you want it to go right and don't want to make a dick of yourself. Well, you've already done that so you may as well relax and have some fun, Jimmy."

James felt his stomach clench and chest seize and Joker reached across the table and put his hand on top of James’, touching small, pale fingers to his skin. It didn't make James relax, but it was almost as good. James turned his hand and wrapped it around Joker's, holding his fingers in his grasp and feeling the small flutter in his chest when their eyes met. All the stuff James had seen in the vids, all the stuff he'd always imagined would happen on a date but never did.

It never stopped being awkward, tentative with fleeting glances and small laughs, James sticking his damn foot in it more than once and Joker always laughing it off and telling him to _relax_ like it was so easy. But it wasn't disastrous, and it was fun. What more could he ask for?

And he _did_ get the bill, not because either of them really made more than the other but because he wanted to and Joker didn't argue because he wasn't stupid enough to turn down a free meal and that had been the deal, right?

They didn't go for a walk, there was no tour around the Presidium lakes or Wards, because Joker's idea of fun had never been to go for a walk, and the unspoken need for alcohol brought them to the bar. James almost didn't but as they walked through the press of people he let his hand touch the small of Joker's back, and he didn't get any reprimand so he kept it there flat against Joker’s spine. James remembered touching that skin, finding out that it was almost exactly how he imagined - soft, but not too soft, muscles under a nice layer of fat that just felt nice, something he wanted to run his hands over. He swallowed and looked at the top of Joker's head and tried to pretend he wasn't thinking about how the guy looked under his clothes. Least not yet.

Joker paid for two drinks - harder stuff now, the beer done with dinner - and James motioned to an unoccupied booth down the steps, slightly removed from the dancing if not any quieter. A couple Marines waved at Vega and when he waved back but ultimately turned their invitation down he swore he heard a wolf whistle. That and laughter. And something about it stuck in his throat. He knew they were laughing at him, worse, that they were probably laughing at Jeff. They wouldn't know who he was \- they didn't know that he was one of the bravest and best pilots, if not _the best_ , in the entire Alliance. Hell, even Steve treated him like an idol.

He sat next to Joker and downed most of his drink in a single hit, pretty much the opposite of how it was supposed to be enjoyed. The ice settled at the bottom and he stared at it, running his finger along the edge of the glass. He turned and opened his mouth to say something, to apologize, to say it didn't matter and Joker leant up and kissed him. His mouth tasted like beer still but was cold from his current drink. James held him; free hand around at the small of Joker’s back again, running his thumb along the line of his pants. It didn't matter. What anyone said, what anyone thought; it didn't matter. They were on the outside, bordering this, circling it. Separated from his hand on Joker's back, Joker's hand on his cheek and the smell of leather and soap.

Yeah, so people did think it was odd seeing them together. He got that. He didn't say it was expected but he had done what was 'expected'. Dated those pretty women; women like Allers. He'd listened to them politely over dinner, didn't give a shit about their jobs or their cats or their mothers, and then went back to their place to fuck. He'd done that. He was done with that. So yeah, maybe this wasn’t what people expected, maybe people would laugh at him, ask him what he was doing with Joker (a pilot, a _cripple_ ) and he would be proud to look them in the eye and say 'you don't know' because they knew nothing about him, didn't know a thing. And the people that mattered (Steve, Traynor, Kaidan, the Commander) didn't think it was odd. He pulled back, ran his thumb over Joker's lower lip and remembered what Steve told him: have a good time.

"You don't care what they think, right?" Joker asked.

"I chose you, _pendejo_. I don't care what anyone thinks 'bout that.  Just you."

“I think I like you. And I don’t want you to care about what anyone else thinks.”

“Then lucky that’s what’s going on here. Shit, Jeff… They don’t know, okay? And it doesn’t matter none that _they don’t know_. I  dunno why you wanna hang out with me like this, but I’m really glad you do.”

“So you don’t care that—”

“That _what?_ No one’s perfect here. Shit, that’s what made me talk to you in the first place. You scared the crap out of me yelling at me like you did but I realized that we’re all  fuckin’ _messed up_. If you’re asking me if I care that you’ve got  Vrolik’s then no, I don’t care. I don’t care if you break bones or whatever because you’re fucking amazing. I’ve never thought anything except that.” 

There, in his eyes, the corner of his lips, was the smallest hint of self-doubt and worry. James always felt so stupid around Joker, so insignificant and useless, reminded of his failings, too big in his skin, but everyone felt it sometimes. No matter how proud, how capable, everyone had those thoughts. So the biggest guy on the Normandy brought his arms around the smallest, pulling Joker against him. 

 

**ix.**

Shepard had stories about winter on Earth, about sledding and decorating a Christmas tree with her family when they got the downtime. Back when she had a family. Back when Nicole Shepard was a dorky, red haired teenager with average grades at school and a green dress she used to wear in the summer. Liara had stories about books, little worlds she would escape into where she could be anyone she wanted, where no one spoke about her behind her back and where everyone was happy to see her. Kaidan had stories about his home overlooking English Bay with parents who had only ever wanted the best for him. Traynor wanted to know all about it, it sounded lovely. But she didn't offer any of her own stories, not just then, but EDI looked at her and tilted her head, thinking or maybe remembering. 

They all had stories, all crammed into Port Observation together, pouring drinks or playing cards. No raucous music or party, just a bunch of people brought together when the rest of the galaxy had been torn apart. Just spending time together knowing that tomorrow might be their last, spending time together as a group now before they all inevitably split apart to spend their last night with the person that could hold them, hold them up and together.

James stared at Shepard's back as Shepard stared out at the stars. They knew what was out there. They knew the face of darkness. Of death. Even if they survived the battle tomorrow, how could you put aside the nightmare?

Kaidan tapped at his Omni-tool and James knew who he was talking to. Steve hadn't come up, not even for that one last drink. He wanted to make sure the Kodiak was ready. The work steadied his mind.

James had done the same, spent his day working at his bench, tweaking things that didn't need to be fixed just to keep his hands busy. Too much pent up energy and nowhere to direct it while that sick feeling multiplied in his stomach.

Liara touched her hand to Shepard's shoulder and they left, not sparing much time on goodbyes because saying it now would feel like meaning it forever. Kaidan stood and left and James knew he was headed down to the cargo bay, down to Steve, to spend those precious last hours together.

Traynor hung her head, her glass resting on her knees. "So this is really it." 

A tear slipped down her cheek and James watched it run over her chin and drip onto her leg. EDI reached forward and placed her hand on Traynor's knee. She had learnt so much, all those little things that made people human. James didn't know if that made EDI human, but he couldn't see why it wouldn't. She was dressed in Alliance BDU's, the set that Shepard had given her with 'EDI' printed above the pocket. One of the team, just like them. EDI cared, hell, she loved. She loved Jeff, and it sure as hell looked like love when she and Sam were together. He dared someone to say EDI wasn't like them.

"May I request a moment alone with James?" EDI asked Sam, her hand still on her knee.

"Of course, EDI." Sam stood and placed her glass on the bench. "I'll meet you in your room." The AI Core. James knew. Just another part of Sam's teachings, he supposed. She had showed EDI what it was like to be human - not just how to show emotions, how to speak and converse, but brought about a side of EDI that no one could have expected. One that could think selfishly, want things for herself like a room, a space to call her own, clothes and with it a sense of pride in herself. They hadn't started a relationship just like that; it was born of trust and mutual respect.

"Jeff cares for you, James." 

He nodded. "Yeah, crazy huh?"

"Not so. I am...glad. You make him happy. He speaks of you often. I enjoy listening to him."

"He doesn't say anything embarrassing, right?"

"Sometimes."

James paled and tossed the rest of his whiskey down his throat.

"It is all of the moments, embarrassing or not, that he reminisces over. He spends much of his time talking about you. He asked me if I found your relationship strange. I was not sure how I was supposed to answer."

"Do you find it strange?"

EDI tilted her head slightly. "I am still unsure as to how I am supposed to answer. I asked Samantha and she believes it is because I lack the social prejudices that colour other's perception."

"Seems likely. Doesn't matter. I care for him, too. You don't have to worry 'bout that."

"This is what I explained to Samantha. My observations have shown that you show great interest in Jeff and that you enjoy his company. I am incapable of making a judgement based on the depth of your feelings for Jeff but I believe that your relationship is mutually enjoyable."

"Huh, guess that's a blessing then, huh, Mom?"

"My consent is not required to engage in a relationship with Jeff. However, if someone were to harm Jeff I would find myself compelled to defend him."

James raised an eyebrow and EDI left without further word. He leant back on the couch and stared out at the stars. Somewhere out there every ship in the fleet would be doing just the same - hanging, waiting. Full of scared people clinging to each other in their last moments of tentative safety. Waiting for Shepard to give the word.

He reached over his shoulder to touch the tattoo there, knowing where it was without being able to see it. A promise of the future he might never see.

"Hey..."

James looked over his shoulder and the doors slid shut behind Joker.

"EDI said you were here. Everyone left, huh?"

"Yeah. Should've joined us for a drink."

Joker sat next to him, an annoying space between them for now because they needed that space to talk about everything. "Nah. You know me. Parties aren't my thing, no matter how depressing they are. Kaidan--"

"With Esteban. Probably locked themselves in the Kodiak by now."

Joker laughed, only small, because laughing didn't seem right. "Yeah, probably. Don't blame 'em, though. Liara and the Commander are upstairs, and EDI said she and Traynor needed to speak and I'm sure there's probably going to be more than just speaking if you catch my drift."

"And you? What do you wanna do?" James asked. He wasn't sure what sort of a relationship this was. What he and Joker had wasn't like a normal relationship. Steve and Kaidan, that was normal; two guys that came together, had dates, spent time together and ended up hot and naked inside the Kodiak. Maybe they talked about the future, getting married or something. Steve would have told him all about Robert and Kaidan would have told him about his parents and it was a real relationship. What he had with Joker...he couldn't explain. They'd started out so bad, almost didn't even end up as friends, and how much they enjoyed each other's company just _snuck up on them._ There were no tentative glances and no first date before a first kiss, just that first crush of lips in the cargo hold to try, to see what it was like. There had been a date and awkward necking in the airlock before jumping apart when EDI welcomed them back. There had been fear and uncertainty and there was this, this closeness without being close, being together without getting together.

"I want to be here with you," Joker said and looked up. "I should be here with you. Y'know? When I think about where I should be right now, with everyone else off around the ship...I know I want to be here with you."

James nodded and swallowed around what felt like his big heart in his throat. It jumped and he quashed it back down. "Yeah. ...Yeah, me too."

The space between them was lost. Joker slid closer and James grabbed him, pulling him into his lap. It took some shuffling, Joker trying to get comfortable with his knees on either side of James' thighs, and his hands on James’ big shoulders, sliding down and then up under his shirt. Joker pulled the shirt over James’ head and balled the grey fabric up and chucked it at the opposite end of the couch. It slid off and hit the ground.

"When I thought about this, what I would be doing at the end...? I never thought this would be it," Joker said. He ran his hands down James' chest and back up to trace along his collarbone. "Didn't think it would be you."

"Is that bad?"

"Nah. Kinda thought I'd be alone, really. Instead, I got you. That's pretty good, don't you think?"

James tilted his head up and kissed him. Caught all those words - letters, sounds, meaning, _feeling_ \- on his lips and swallowed them. There were many ways this could have gone, this end of the world stuff. James could have ended up in bed with someone like  Allers, trying to find some sort of companionship and closeness and being sated for the shortest time. He could have ended up with Steve, sharing a drink and drowning their sorrows one last time. He could have ended up alone, staring out at the stars. Joker's hands dropped to the front of James’ trousers and his pale fingers worked open the button. Where he did end up was here and James couldn't think of anywhere better.

 

**x.**

It was a promise. A simple promise of a future. A future that a day ago they didn't know was possible. 

When the first Reaper fell the galaxy cheered.

When the Normandy crashed there was silence.

Darkness and then the dim emergency lighting guiding the path to an exit. James ignored it. Felt the trickle of blood down his face and the shooting pain in his arm (a fracture? Broken? Couldn't use it, that was for sure). All his training, years of drills and exercises, left him when faced with true panic. Not for himself. Never for himself. He didn't matter. 

He never had.

"Jeff!"

"EDI...? EDI, talk to me. Say something!"

Calls flashed from all over the ship. The consoles alight with alerts and damage reports. James leaned over and hit the mute button. Exhaustion was catching up to him - the crash, crawling through ducts with one bad arm? It was too much.

"Joker? EDI?"

He turned and Traynor pushed past him. She knelt next to EDI, picking up that still hand in her own, bringing it to her cheek.

Joker winced as he hauled himself up from his chair, his hand shooting to his side to hold broken ribs. James reached for him. He brought Joker in against his big chest and James bit his lip - hard - as the pain shot straight through him. Joker clung to him, twisting his hands in James’ shirt, nose pressed against his neck. It was okay. He was okay.

"What happened? What's happened?" Traynor asked. "EDI, answer me..."

All those flashing lights, bright orange and red burned into the back of his eyes and the tears burned his cheeks. James pressed a kiss to Joker's hair, his hat somewhere under the consoles or maybe under his chair, and he felt Joker's hands dig into his chest, trembling.

"What happened?" Traynor screamed. She looked up at him, her eyes full of tears. James didn't have an answer.

Some people didn't get a future.

He shrugged. With one shoulder, the other too sore, his ribs aching each time he breathed in.

"I'm getting her back." Traynor stood, shaking her head, her hands clenched in her trousers, knuckles white. "I'm getting her back. There has to be a backup.”

Traynor was gone and Joker let himself cry.

The clean up was quick. Silent and efficient because busy hands silenced busy minds. The dead were taken care of, given proper burials on a planet they didn't recognise. Chakwas did what she could with limited supplies but there were injuries that couldn't be healed with medi-gel and some pain that couldn't be treated at all.

Pain that made the lights flicker for the fifth time that hour as Sam tinkered in the AI Core. Pain that kept Liara locked in the Commander's cabin and Kaidan sitting alone in the cargo hold, staring at a deserted workbench.

Pain that somehow meant that James was in charge of their little world because everything else was in shambles. He wished he could give the responsibility back.

He handed a datapad back to one of the navigation crew and looked down the length of the CIC. The lights flickered again. He couldn't ask Traynor to stop because stopping meant giving up and giving in. Stopping meant pain, grief, mourning.

Each footfall felt heavy, too loud, his legs made of lead. Each step vibrated through his body, hot pain in his right arm held against his chest in a sling. Not broken, but close. Just like a lot of things. James stopped outside the cockpit, waited but didn't disturb the Flight Lieutenant who didn't look up at him but twitched at the sound of his entrance.

"EDI... Hey, I'm sorry about all the jokes, okay? But stop kidding around." Joker carefully lowered himself down, kneeling next to EDI - EDI's body, Eva Core's body, the Cerberus body - and reached forward to touch her arm. He shook it. His brows furrowed and he shook harder. "I don't know where we are, EDI. I... We're lost. I don't know what happened. I need your help, okay? So stop kidding around already!"

"She's gone."

"She's can't be. She's a computer. They have backups. Traynor will fix her."

"She's no computer. You know that. EDI was more than a computer."

Joker lowered his head, chin resting near his chest. "I need her."

"Hey... Hey, c'mon. No need for that, yeah?" James knelt and placed his hand on Joker’s shoulder. "I know you loved her, right? You did."

A twitch, a twinge of something ran through Joker and he glanced up quick. "Yeah. I guess I did."

"No shame in that."

Joker's hand covered his and they sat in the silence. The ship was too damn quiet. Engine dead, crew members dead, EDI...dead.

"I don't know where we are. Nav team has no idea either. Without EDI we've got basic life support and ship controls. EDI dealt with a lot. She was good."

"Wanna take a look outside, then? Bit of fresh air might do ya some good." It wasn't so much an invitation or suggested as it was an order, because he stood and took Joker's hand to help him up. Joker accepted the help and followed.

They had no idea where in the galaxy they were. A beautiful planet, two moons big in the sky. Could be anywhere.

Joker rubbed his arm and James slipped his arm around his shoulders, bringing the pilot against his side. Felt the warmth, felt Joker's arm around his waist in return.

"We could be here forever."

"Yeah, we could. Never know. What d'we do now? Any ideas?"

Joker took a couple steps forward, away from James, and stared up at the sky. There were no answers. There never were. Life was just reactions, a mess of big and small events that you ran with because stopping meant giving up. This was just another of those trials. A test, maybe.

"Guess we keep going. Unless you've got any other bright ideas?" Joker asked. He turned and closed the gap between them, careful of the arm but up against James, hands on his waist. "I suppose I'm lucky, y'know, when you think about it. Kaidan's down there alone wondering what happened to Steve. He could be dead, injured and alone and we won't know. And Liara... The Commander’s probably dead. We all know it. She's the hero, she won the war, but expecting a happy ending there..."

"I don't get it. You lost me on this one."

"Y'know. Lucky. Like Tali and Garrus. Or Daniels and Donnelly. I mean _you're here_ , you idiot. You could still be on Earth--"

"You rescued me."

"I was ordered to pick-up. I did my job."

"You flew the Normandy right in front of a _Reaper_! No, you saved me."

"I wasn't going to leave you. Couldn't... Though don't tell anyone because it's not really fair, is it? Leave the battle to pick-up a ground team because I couldn't stand to leave you behind. Not fuckin' fair."

James touched the back of his hand to Joker's cheek. "No, not fair... Doesn't matter none, though. What's done...it's done, yeah? You're my knight, now."

Joker laughed, harsh and hoarse in his throat. "Yeah. Knight in a shiny ship. I just... I couldn't sit there and let you go. Now I've got you here. Stupid, huh?"

James shrugged. "If this is the end, if we're stuck here forever... I got you. Guess I'm the one that's lucky."

"It was just a thing. End of the world stuff. You don't have to stick around."

It struck James in the chest. A hole through him, the words cutting through his chest and that small word of doubt exploded in his mind. He frowned and put his hand under Joker's chin, forcing him to look up. "You don't mean that, no? This wasn't... This ain't..." He leaned down and kissed Joker, pulling the small body against him, mindful of his fractured arm that was just getting in the damn way. "Told you...I chose you," he said against Joker's lips. 

"You don't have to."

"Nah, I _don't_. But I did. If this is forever, then I  wanna spend it with you." A feeling that was too big for his body overwhelmed him. Something that had grown from the smallest spark.

Joker pushed back, a crinkle in his brow. "Don’t do that. You can’t do that. That sounds like, y'know...a proposal or something."

James touched the back of his neck and shrugged. "Dunno, maybe it is. Maybe I mean it. If we're stuck here forever then I can't think of anyone else I wanna be with. You and me, yeah? We're good together. So don’t just say it was a thing.”

"You can't just...! " Joker paced, his hands wringing together tight. He scuffed at the dirt with boots that had probably never seen land. "Let's just, I dunno, call this temporary forever then. You and me, for now until we decide otherwise. Because we’re good together."

"You scared?" James asked and in his heart he knew he was scared. Scared to admit how much Joker meant to him, scared to think he might lose this, scared to admit that he was _scared._

The war was won. They deserved...

They deserved anything they wanted.

Something curled around James as he remembered that soft skin below his hands, bare thighs under his fingers. The feeling tightened as he remembered small hands on him, a bright smile, the laugh that coiled around James as they lay next to each other on the too small couch, staring out at the stars. He remembered touching the freckles on Joker’s stomach and tracing a line of hair with his lips and wanting that forever. 

"I want you," James said, sounding dumb and scared and Joker had never answered his question.

That one small spark had grown into something James couldn’t hold back anymore. He didn’t want to hold it back. He didn’t need more time, didn’t need more than one awkward date on the Citadel, he just wanted _Joker._

"Why?"

"Don't need no answer. Sometimes you don't. So...you scared?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I’m fucking scared." Joker wrapped his arms around himself. "Scared 'cause you mean something to me. Because I think... Think that I might love you. You stupid, big bonehead."

James laughed. He didn’t have the greatest timing and Joker scowled at him but James grabbed him with that one good arm and dragged him close. "Think my answer is obvious, yeah? _Te quiero, __amorcito_ _._ "

Forever didn't happen on that planet. It happened in London in an apartment block with a stray cat that Joker fed from their rations. It happened during relief work, flying shuttles, reunions with Steve and gathering around the Shepard Memorial at the site of the Citadel beam. James held Joker against his side, kissed the top of his head as the statue was revealed and neither of them cried because that was done. You could only shed so many tears.

Even Liara. Even Traynor. The well was empty. They stood next to each other but not touching because they were close by associated pain, not by friendship or companionship.

Forever. It was just a word. But it had been given to them, even if forever meant a year, a week, or until they decided otherwise. Shepard had given them that, promised them that future. A future they could choose.

"You stood with her until the end," Joker said.

"Yeah."

Joker smiled at him and kissed the back of his hand. 

Shepard had given James this future. He wouldn't forget that.

  



End file.
